


Goodbye

by Anonymous



Series: The Dream Team DID System [9]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alters, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dormancy, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dream enters the front, only to realize something is terribly wrong.-Or: The Dream Team is a DID system. The system is changing.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, System Relationships - Relationship
Series: The Dream Team DID System [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078016
Comments: 33
Kudos: 350
Collections: Anonymous





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: losing a systemmate, dormancy, grief/mourning, brief suicidal ideation, brief thoughts of self-harm

Dream wakes up and something's different. Something’s wrong. He tries checking in with the rest of the system, reaching out to try and see what’s going on. He gets no replies, but that isn’t necessarily unusual. Sometimes he doesn’t have contact with anyone in the inner world when he fronts.

But something’s wrong, he can feel it.

He calls the first person he thinks of.

“Bad?” he says, the minute Bad picks up the phone.

“Hey,” Bad replies, “This Dream?”

“Yes. Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean? Are you okay?” Bad says, voice rising.

“I don’t know,” Dream says, “I don’t know, something’s wrong.” His fingers clench around the phone and he searches for a reason that he’s feeling this way.

“Are you hurt?”

“No? I don’t think so? I don’t know!” Dream says, “Bad what’s happening?!”

"Okay let's take a moment," Bad says, slowing down his voice to a gentle lull. The smooth nature of it makes Dream recognize how quickly his own is speeding up. He works to even it out.

It's hard to do with the itch of wrongness in the back of his mind.

"How are you doing?" Bad asks, after a few moments of silence.

"Something's wrong," Dream mutters, "something, with the system. I can't reach anyone and-"

"You can't always reach someone," Bad reminds.

"I know that," Dream bites harshly. He instantly winces at his tone and apologizes. He knows Bad is only trying to help and sometimes the system does get confused enough that even well known facts like that can get muddled in their confusion.

"Well, why do you think it's something to do with the system?" Bad asks, "Did anyone leave you a note? Anything like that?"

Dream shuffles, standing and going to the spot that everyone in the system is supposed to return their notebook. Half the time it isn’t there, found in other common spots, but this is the one place it’s supposed to be. It’s there this time. He flips through it to the current date, finding nothing significant enough from the past few days.

There's information in there, of course, but nothing that adds up to the intense feeling of wrongness Dream feels.

He sets the notebook back down.

As he does so, a slip of folded paper tumbles out, gently gliding the floor.

Dreams heart drops. He takes a careful breath, hearing it echo in his own head.

"Dream?" Bad asks. Dream ignores his voice, setting the phone down to have his hands free.

With trembling hands, Dream picks up the paper, slowly folding it open.

Goodbye,' it states, 'I've had a good run. It’s time to move on. -Al'

Dreams head pounds, and he realizes what's wrong.

The front is completely void of everyone but him. Even when he can't talk to anyone, can't reach anyone there's always been a presence. Maybe not someone he could communicate with, or that could he grasp, but a small presence.

Like a tiny pebble in the bottom of your shoe. Oftentimes unnoticeable, occasionally impossible to ignore, and so obvious it was there once it's removed.

Al... Al is gone. Completely.

"Al's gone," Dream chokes out, "Bad, Al's gone."

"What do you mean?" Bad asks, and Dream can practically hear his frown.

"There's a note," he says, "There's- Al went dormant."

"Oh. Oh shit," Bad says.

Dream’s shaking- Dreams- he's- what's even happening?

"Bad. Bad. Al's gone."

He knows he's repeating himself, but he can't find himself caring. He's struggling to process what this means, both for the overall function of the system and the personal loss of the first person he met in the system.

"Bad- Al- al was the first person I met," Dream admits, "he was the first person I talked to. He- he's the reason we were able to get diagnosed. He helped- helped me realize I wasn't Clay, I was my own person. Bad- we've- I've never not had Al."

"That's an incredible loss," Bad validates, and Dream appreciates he doesn't try to sugarcoat it.

With those words he bursts into violent tears, dissolving quickly into a bubbling mess.

"I- I can't do this," he insists, "I can't, not- without Al, I've never…"

"What do you need?" Bad asks.

Dream knows he means what can bad do to help but all he can think of is that he needs to not be here anymore.

He calls desperately to the void, begging someone to take his place. He calls for Ze, begging her to deal with the shit show that all of this is, for Bad to comfort and care and help them move forward, for Luc to forget it all and live a happy childhood.

But no one comes.

"Dream, do I need to call someone?" Bad says.

Dream continues to wheeze and cry, fully breaking down as he realizes Al still isn't there, will never be there again.

They've had alters go dormant, fade away, or integrate before in the past.

But those were all expected occurrences, some even planned. The last time something like this happened was in the reverse, when Clay woke up. This is so much worse than that could ever be. Clay waking had been hard to adjust to, hard to get used to but it hadn’t been a loss. It was a gain.

Dream has said goodbye to systemmates before, but he didn’t even get to say goodbye to Al.

He wails.

He knows he’s probably scaring Bad on the other line, knows Bad’s trying to figure out if Dream’s going to stay safe. He wants to respond, to say that no, nothing's okay he’s lost the only positive mentor he’s had in his life.

He feels like he’s dying.

Dream, Dream was created to not remember the trauma they experienced as a child. As an adult now with a system that works together and years of therapy, he’s become aware of a lot of the trauma they went through. He knows what happened to them, knows their history.

But it’s different because while he knows they were abused, that they went through severe, repeated trauma for years, he doesn't actually remember any of it. He doesn’t know it in detail. It’s not his to hold.

He has trauma of his own, it’s hard not to when you have DID even if you were created to not hold trauma, but it’s a different sort, a manageable pain.

And for the first time in his life Dream wonders if he’s finally feeling what some of his headmates deal with on a regular basis.

He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want these memories.

Most of all, he doesn’t want to lose Al.

“He’s gone,” he sobs onto the phone, “Bad- he didn’t say anything. He’s just- he’s just fucking gone. He’s-” Dream breaks off into more screeching sobs, heaving for air as his world crumbles around him.

He’s never experienced loss like this before.

“It’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to cry,” Bad soothes from across the line, and Dream’s already crumbling to the ground and those words just make it easier.

He falls apart, breaking to pieces as grief sinks deep into his bones, drilling tiny holes in his entire body, making him feel weaker and weaker.

He chokes on his own breath and wants to die. His nails sink into his arms and he can’t even think- it feels like he’s dying and-

“Hello?”

“Ze?” Bad asks, across the phone.

“Hi Bad,” Ze greets, voice trembling. She settles into the body, notices how she's shaking and how empty she feels.

Her face is wet and she wipes away the tears that Dream had cried before her.

The front feels abandoned, a giant gaping presence that Ze sits in.

“Ze, are- are you guys going to be safe?” Bad asks, “I’m pretty worried."

Ze sniffles, brushing a tear from her eyes.

Al is gone. Al is gone, but she has a job. Al is gone, but she can’t think about that right now.

“I-” she says, “I don’t know. I’m going- we’re... we’re going to make sure, okay?”

“Can you stay with someone for a bit?” Bad asks, “Do you want me to visit?”

Ze almost gives a smile. It’s an extraordinarily generous offer, but not the least bit unexpected knowing Bad.

“It’s alright,” she says oddly quiet, “I think, I’ll- I’ll text Clay’s parents. We can… we can stay with them for a few days.”

Ze starts to plan, taking a deep breath and figuring out the best course of action. Losing a systemmate like this, losing Al, has Ze wanting to curl up under a heavy blanket and cry herself to sleep, but she needs to support the system, needs to make sure they stay healthy, and safe.

She’s here to protect the system from things that’ll hurt them. But how can she protect the system when the emotional hurt comes from within?

“Okay,” Bad says, “Is there- Ze is there anything I can do? At all?”

Ze considers, mind filled with static. The front is still so, so empty, without even a hint of Al anywhere. She takes a moment to look at the note still clutched in the body’s hands.

Al’s gone.

“I don’t think so,” she whispers, “I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

She takes a deep breath, settling into the pain, sinking into it and getting used to it, without letting it suffocate her.

"We're going to figure this out," she says, trying to convince herself. "We're, we are going to get through this."

"You are," Bad agrees, "Ze, you are going to get through this."

"I miss him," Ze admits, "it hasn't- it's been- I miss him already."

"I can't even imagine," Bad agrees, "I know how important and how loved he was by the whole system."

"Yeah," Ze agrees, "I think- I think I'm going to go now. I'll make sure we um, we'll keep you updated that we're safe. But we might, we might take some space for a bit."

"That's totally okay," Bad validates, "but I would greatly appreciate knowing that you are safe. I love you. I love you all."

"Love you too," Ze whispers, "bye Bad."

Ze hangs up, setting the phone down and closing her eyes. She presses her hands into her eyes, and begins to finally cry in earnest, grieving the loss of her systemmate.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sad one rip


End file.
